


The Tale of Two Men

by AngelCastielRulesTheWorld



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-20 07:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3641562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelCastielRulesTheWorld/pseuds/AngelCastielRulesTheWorld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started with three paintings. The women in flames looking serene and at peace. The man in the woods looking haunted and determined to protect, and the eyes always watching, innocently learning from the all they see. Or the story of Dean, his bar and his artist. Destiel human AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was orginally posted on ff.net under the same name.

It started with three paintings. The women in flames looking serene and at peace. The man in the woods looking haunted and determined to protect, and the eyes always watching, innocently learning from the all they see.

Yes I know I should start from the being but it was such an ordinary start, nothing to talk about, so tell me why shouldn’t I go for sensationalism? Okay fine let’s begin at the beginning, but don’t ever say I didn’t warn you.

Once upon a time (what? Nothing wrong with starting with a classic is there?) There lived a man. He had not had the easiest start in life I will grant you but he had his brother. And in his mind he could ask for nothing more. He looked after him and protected him from the crap that life threw at them so that his brother never knew the difference between his life and that of his friends. He graduated from high school, but didn’t go to college saying that it wasn’t for him when in reality he wouldn’t leave Sammy alone with the man who was their father. Then his brother got accepted to Stanford. He of course encouraged his brother to leave, not because he thought of himself but he thought that if Sammy was gone nothing could happen to him. The problem was the money. Yes Sam had got a scholarship but things still needed to paid for, books and stuff. So being the good brother he was he found a way to pay for all his brother ever needed, without Sam ever knowing the truth. And no it is not what you think. This man who was once upon a time a boy was in fact rather clever. He had spent many a night making up a dream world for his brother to hide the sounds from their father downstairs. This dream world was not one you would think that a child could come up with. It contained monsters and evil, but the brothers hunted it all. They were fearless together and could take on the whole world. It made Sam feel safe to know that his brother would protect him from everything. And every night Sam Winchester used to go to sleep of stories of him and his brother fighting and defeating the monsters that hid in the dark, with the background sound of Metallica on the tape deck. Dean was just happy that the sounds covered that which Sam did not need to hear.

So when Dean heard that his brother needed money in college he thought back to those stories and decided to write them down. He was surprised when he first sent them to the publishers, not because they rejected him, but because they seemed to want more. And thus the stories Dean Winchester told his brother to help him through the dark of the night became best sellers.

Dean did not do publicity. He stayed away, not even telling his brother how he got the money he needed, instead claiming it was what he earned working three jobs. They both knew it was a lie but never of them was willing to call the other on it. Dean because he didn’t want to tell his brother the truth and Sam because he didn’t want to think about where the money had come from. His thoughts automatically going to something illegal.

The years past and Sam got given a full ride at law school. Dean could not be happier for him, though he still helped out with money, he was still writing the books and people were still reading them. Then Sam graduated a lawyer. He could not let himself still take the money he thought his brother got from illegal means and so found himself a place in a good law firm. Dean still continued to write, though now the stories had a darker edge, one in which the younger brother cared nothing for the older and he blamed himself for every pain in the world and sort to find a release for it.

After a few years of dark times in Dean’s mind, though good times in Sam’s, Sam set up his own practice in a the small town of no consequence except to those who had lived there. This was where Sam finally got round to proposing to his college sweetheart Jessica and she obviously said yes. (Come on who would say no if Sam Winchester proposed?) Once Sam phoned his brother to tell him Dean was over the moon that Sammy was finally happy. Though he was upset to find that now he was dispensable, after all Jess would be there for him now. But being the man he was he put his own feelings to the back of his mind and concentrated on being happy for Sam.  
It was one night three months after Sam got engaged that they were sitting in the local bar while Dean was visiting drinking when the owner came over to them and mentioned he was selling. He was retiring with his wife, moving out to California to be with their daughter and grandchildren. Sam made the expected noises of shock but pleasure while Dean just sat there. Since Sam had left he had never had a home. Yes he had a house but it was empty when Sam wasn't in it. And Sam wasn't coming back. Maybe if he could move closer to his brother he would find home again. So he decided on impulse to buy the bar. After all his writing was still going strong and he had enough in royalties so he really didn’t need to work again. He wanted a home and he thought that maybe by running this bar he might find one. How little he knew, that that one decision would change the course of his life, finding him not just a home, but a family.


	2. Chapter 2

Two households, both alike in dignity, in fair Verona where we lay our scene (I know I'm not Shakespeare and this ain't Italy, but hell I'll allowed the poetic licence, right? Okay fine, I'll stop with the quotes, for now). We are here with Dean Winchester, he has brought the bar, though Sam is still wondering how (not that he will ever ask, it is sometimes best if you do not know). Dean looks around the bar, he sees not the peeling paint or the rotting walls, no to him he sees the potential and he can't wait to get started on this new phase of his life.

"Dean, really? You brought this place?" Sam asked with trepidation to his brother as he looked around the neglected bar in day light.

"Hell yeah Sammy, this place? It's gonna be awesome." Responded Dean with a smile on his face as he did a 360 look around the bar imagining all that he will do to make it the go to place in town.

"Okay" his brother replied, wondering how to broach the subject of the money needed to restore this hell hole to his brother.

"Stop worrying Sammy, I have it all under control." Dean answered the unasked question in Sam tone, making Sam drop the subject. Dean always said he had money under control and then came up with however much Sam asked of him. Now that his brother was spending the money on himself he couldn't ask where it came from, he only hoped that Dean wouldn't get caught. He didn't want to have to defend a decade of illegal transactions from his bother. Though he knew he would, he would do anything to protect Dean, as he had protected him throughout his life. Sam was not stupid, he knew his past was not that of a normal American kid, and he knew that Dean had given up everything for him. He was not going to let that go to waste and hopefully if Dean had this business he could give up whatever he did to get money and go straight. Not that Sam said any of this to his brother he instead made a non-committal sound before offering his help.

"Well this is going to take some work, you need help you know where I am."

"Thanks Sammy. But I think I'll be okay." Dean replied not looking at his brother instead looking round his bar, his new home.

It took two months but Dean finally finished the refurbishments of the bar and had managed to hire some staff. Though some of those came with the bar it seemed, not that he was complaining. It was not like he had any actual experience of running a bar before.

He invited Sam and Jess round for a celebratory drink with his new staff two weeks before he opened. He thought it a good idea if all the staff (including himself) learnt exactly what they were doing before the bar opened, and it wasn't like he needed the money. Plus he paid his staff for the training so they didn't really care if they had customers or not, if fact it gave them time to get to know each other. It gave them time to bond (not that any of them knew it, well perhaps Ellen did but she did know everything).

Sam and Jess came through the door and Sam was brought up short at what his brother had achieved. Not only had he sorted out the rotting wood and peeling paint but somehow, a way Sam knew that only Dean could do, he had made the bar feel not just welcoming, but like a home. He looked to his brother standing by the bar with a bottle of beer in his hand and smiled. Only Dean could have pulled this off. He went over to him while Jess exclaimed about how nice the bar was and asked

"So what you calling the place?" Dean frowned as he thought about it. He was no good at names. Then an idea came to him, it was sneaky but oh so tempting. He decided right then and there he was going to call this bar the same as he had the one in his books.

"It's called The Roadhouse Sammy." He replied with a smile taking a sip of beer as he took in his brother's look. Not a flicker of recognition was there, only at frown as if to ask why. But before Sam could speak Jess interrupted.

"Oh I think that's a great name Dean, really suits the place, if you know what I mean?" she said raising her eyebrow at him with a smirk on her lips as Sam got more confused. Dean realising he would have to be careful around his future sister-in-law (She obviously read his books) smiled back at her and raised his beer. Not saying a word, though she took it as acceptance.

Sam carried on looking around trying to decide what the place was missing. When he finally worked it out he turned to his brother.

"So what are you going to put on the walls?" He asked innocently.

"What?" Dean asked in return, not sure what his brother was going on about.

"Well, surely you're going to put some pictures on the wall right?" Sam asked with the confidence that his brother had already though about this. Dean stared at him not sure what to say. He looked around his bar that he was so proud of and he realised that Sam was right. It was still missing something, and pictures would work wonders.

"Sure Sam. I'm going out tomorrow to sort it." He replied hoping Sam didn't catch that he didn't really know what he was talking about until he looked around.

"That's good. Want me to come with?" Sam asked, feeling a bit bad about how he had made Dean feel that his bar wasn't finished. He had caught the looked of puzzlement before Dean looked around and Sam was willing to kick himself for damping his brother enthusiasm for his new bar.

"Na it cool Sammy, I got it." Dean said with a smile and then turned to the others in the room. To introduce them. Which I should probably also do, they are after all soon to be family to us all.

So there were six other people present to meet Sam and Jess, who they had heard so much about while they worked with Dean. They were:

Ellen – the mother hen. She had been a bar maid at the roadhouse for so long that most people assumed she owned the place (a thought Dean was rather unwilling to change, did I mention he didn't like publicity?).

Bobby – Ellen's husband and general handy man. He didn't work at the bar but he was always around. He actually had his own garage. Him and Dean bonded over a fond love for cars within minutes (which meant Bobby had decided Dean was the son he never had and had to father him).

Jo – Ellen's daughter from her first marriage. A young but fun girl who after meeting Dean decided it was her mission life to become his annoying younger sister. She also Waitress' at the bar.

Charlie – The newbie. Dean employed her to design his website and ended up giving her a job as a part-time waitress for when she wasn't at college. At least Dean now had someone he could geek out with. Though as she was a fan of his books he was rather worried about her mental stability.

Benny – Chef Extraordinaire and built like a wall. Need I say any more?

Ash – Genius who just happened to have same taste in music as Dean and was happy to become his accountant. Which helped as Dean wasn't so money savvy as he liked to believe.

Chuck – A sort of DJ/musician who just seemed to be there. Dean wasn't sure what his job actually was but he was willing to help out behind the bar if needed and he ran the weekend entertainment, which usually considered of him and his band Louden Swain playing or his friend Jason. Both of which were really rather good and Dean was happy to continue with them.

Anyway back to the story.

Sam said hi to ever one and they all sat down to get to know each other in the age old fashion that is bars, by many of them getting drunk. If nothing else it worked as a charm as an ice breaker between this new group of people.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed update the last couple of days so here is a few chapters.

The next day Dean found himself standing outside a music shop in town called rather strangely Alfie's. Not that he was going to question it, he just hoped he could find some decent band posters inside to put up in his bar, he really didn't want to have to go searching anywhere else.

He walked through the door to hear Motor Head blaring out at him. He nodded his head at the choice of music and moved to where he saw the posters were. But half way there he stopped. On the wall was an oil painting. He couldn't say what it was off but he couldn't take his eyes off of it. It was amazing, the way the colours seemed to blend together only to come apart again. It was breath taking, and it was only small.

He turned to the man behind the desk to ask "Hey this picture? You know who painted it?"

"Yeah sure, it was my brother why?" Asked the young man who had been reading a music magazine.

"It's amazing. Do you think he would paint something for me if I asked?" Dean said not taking his eyes from the painting.

"Don't know, I can give you his number if you'd like." Responded the man with a shrug and a sound of not really caring either way.

"Yeah thanks, that'd be great." Dean replied tearing his eyes away from the painting to take the card that the man held out to him. Looking down he saw that it was a business card for one Castiel Novak, artist. He walked out of the shop staring at the card and pulling out his phone.

Castiel was sitting looking at the blank canvas before him, trying to find inspiration when his phone went off, he hated to be interrupted when working.

"What!" he snapped down the phone.

"Um, hi is this Castiel Novak?" Said the voice on the other end of the line causing Castiel to roll his eyes. Who else would be answering his phone?

"That very much depends on who is calling." He responded deciding that the person on the other end wasn't important enough to have his full attention and so he went back to staring at the white in front of him.

"I'm Dean Winchester, and I saw one of his pictures in Alfie's music store and I was wondering if he could do a commission for me." At this Castiel's eyes lit up and he gave his attention back to the man on the other end of the phone.

"What kind of commission?" he asked.

"Well that very much depends on if I am talking to Castiel Novak or not." Came the huffed response down the phone making Castiel bark with laughter. Yes he decided, he like this man.

"Okay you got me. I am Castiel Novak, now what kind of commission where you thinking of?" he asked with a small smile on his lips.

"Well I just refurbished a bar and I'm in need of something to go on the walls. I was looking for some band posters but then I saw your work and thought I'd give you call." This caused him to raise his eyebrows, since when had his work been comparable to band posters?

"You know one of my paintings is a lot more expensive than a band poster." He finally said, thinking that this man wasn't worth his time after all.

"Yeah I guessed that but the question is by how much?" This caused Castiel to sigh. Couldn't this guy get off the line already?

"What size are you looking for?"

"Well I was going to get 3 A0 posters so…"

"Hmm, you're looking at at least $500 each picture." Castiel responded not really paying much attention now until that is he heard the reply to that statement.

"Sounds good to me."

"Okay, so what do you want?" he asked wondering what the catch was.

"I don't know really, I was kinda hoping you could come up with that." This was music to Castiel's ears, it was very rarely that he got to paint what he wanted. So he threw himself into working out what he could do for this man.

"Okay let's start with what's the bars name?"

"The Roadhouse." Came the reply stopping him short.

"Really?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"Yeah why what's wrong with that?" the man on the other end of the phone asked sounding defence.

"Nothing, just not a usual name. Okay I'll work on 3 paintings for you." Castiel said, ideas already running though his head based on his favourite books. He had always wanted an excuse to paint scenes from the Supernatural series but no one ever seemed to want to buy them, now he had a commission to paint pictures for The Roadhouse he wasn't going to let anyone stand in his way, especially the man on the other end of the phone.

"Great. We open in two weeks …can you have them finished by then?"

"Yes." He answered no longer paying any attention to the conversation as his eyes skimmed the titles on the bookcase on the opposite wall wondering which three parts he was going to work on.

"Okay great-" Castiel hung up the phone. He had work to do. And knew just what he wanted to paint now.

Dean looked down at his phone when he realised that the other man had hung up. Had he just made a massive mistake? He shook his head and walked away from the music store, even if he had there was nothing he could do now but wait.


	4. Chapter 4

The night before the bar was to open and all the staff Dean, Sam and Jess were celebrating before the big night. Sam looked around the bar and noticed that Dean had still not put any pictures up. He was going to mention it when there was a knock at the door. A knock that started it all (yes I'm being overly dramatic but why not right? Okay fine it was just a knock). Dean turned to door, wondering who it was he had almost forgotten the pictures he had asked for (almost). He opened the door to a delivery man with three wooden crates. He couldn't stop his jaw from dropping. What the-

"Delivery for Dean Winchester at The Roadhouse. Needs a signature." Said the man at the door completely oblivious to Dean's look of shock.

"Um yeah sure." Dean answered as he automatically signed for the 3 crates.

"Oh there's this as well. The guy insisted that we keep it separate so we didn't lose it." The way the man said this, as if he was affronted that anyone would question his ability at his job made Dean smile. There was only one person that he knew of that would be sending him three crates and was that rude. These where the pictures from Castiel.

"Cheers." He said taking the envelope the man held out to him, hoping that his niceness would subtract from Castiel's rather blunt persona.

Once the men had gone everyone gathered round Dean to look at the crates.

"what are they?" Sam asked cautiously, he didn't want anything to do with handling stolen goods or anything, not that he thought whatever was inside the crates was stolen but…(yeah you carry on trying to persuade yourself of that Sammy).

Dean didn't respond to his brother's question instead he opened the envelope. It was short and to the point.

_Dean Winchester,_

_Here are the three paintings I have done for you. The titles of the paintings are on the back of the frames. If you do not like them then please return them to the address provided. If you do like them then please pay the sum stated on the invoice into the bank account given._

_Castiel Novak_

Dean read the little terse note and raised his eyebrows, unsure why Castiel would think that he wouldn't like the paintings and what was so important about the pictures names. Shaking his head he put the note back into the envelope before turning to the first crate, gesturing to his brother to give him a hand. Sam cautiously helped Dean lay the crate across a table as Bobby went off to get a crow bar to get in to it.

Once the lid was off everyone crowded round to see inside but only Dean got a truly good look and what he saw took his breath away.

It was a picture of a beautiful woman with blonde hair blowing in some imagined wind a look of serenity, peace and love on her face while around her flames licked up at her body, it was almost as if she had risen from the flames themselves and they were a part of her.

Dean looked at the picture and couldn't swallow the lump in his throat. He carefully picked it up by its tasteful wooden frame, as if it was the most precious thing in the world, and placed it propped up on the bar where everyone could see it.

No one could believe the beauty of the painting, though Ellen had a small sad knowing look on her face and Sam keep repeating his brother's name trying to get Dean's attention.

"DEAN!" he finally yelled causing Dean to look at him with a distance look still in his eyes.

"Hmm?"

"The painting, where did you get it?" Sam asked worried now for his brother.

"I brought it, well commissioned it actually." Dean replied eyes being drawn back to the woman standing the centre of the flames.

"You commission a painting?" Sam asked completely shocked by the idea of his brother doing any such thing.

"Three actually" Dean replied carefully setting the painting of the woman on the bar before turning to the next crate and repeating the process.

This time no one was surprised that it was a painting but the image shocked the all.

There in the centre of the picture was a man in an old leather jacket with his back to the room, looking over his shoulder. He had short dirty blonde hair and the greenest eyes ever seen and the look the held in them was of pain and loss. A haunting look that spoke of never knowing happiness and yet there was something more as well. A desire to protect all others from what he had seen. He was surrounded and blended into trees, the greens matching those in his eyes and browns his jacket. It was almost as if nature itself was trying to calm his soul.

When Dean saw the picture he knew immediately who it was that was represented, what he didn't see was the rest until Sammy came up.

"My god Dean, that looks just like you." He breathed as his eyes flickered from the painting to the man beside him.

"You think so?" Dean asked he couldn't really see it.

"Umm, yeah. It's like a spitting image dude. Did you give this guy a photo of you or something?" Sam asked, not taking his eyes of the picture of his brother looking so…haunted.

"No I never met him." Dean replied going back to opening the last crate, wondering which character Castiel had depicted in the last one. Though he hoped it wasn't the little brother, with the accuracy of Castiel's paintings so far Sam would become very suspicious if the last was a picture looking just like him. Hmm, maybe he should start changing the descriptions of people he writes about so they don't look too much like the real people he got his inspiration from.

Looking into the last crate Dean was pulled up short. This one was different from the other two, though there was a shadow of a body with wings in the background the painting was mainly dominated by a pair of bright blue eyes. They seemed to watch everything and had an age to them that was undefinable. But for all that age they still held innocent childlike wonder. The eyes and shadowy figure where surrounded by blues, silvers and whites swirled together as if you where trying to look at the forbidden. Dean could not tear his eyes away.

Sam came over and looked at the new picture but it didn't really hold much interest in him instead he went back to the imagine of his brother by a man who had never met him.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean sat at the bar drinking a glass of whiskey as he looked at the three painting before him. They were incredible, unbelievable and so much more than he had thought they would be. He almost didn't want to put them up here, instead taking them home to hang on his wall. Almost.

Suddenly Sam was at his elbow.

"So when did you get into art?" he asked trying to joke with his older brother while all the time looking a picture which bore an uncanny resemblance.

"I not. So what's up Sammy?" Dean asked, Sam couldn't hide anything from him.

"I'm just, how did this Castiel guy know exactly what you look like?" Sam finally got out asking, causing Dean to raise his eyebrow at his brother and taking a sip of his drink before he answered.

"What does it say the back Sammy." He asked. Sam was confused, why would it say anything on the back? Still he picked up the picture and turned it over, there in simple block capitals it said 'The Righteous Man'.

"The righteous man? What the hell does that mean?" He asked his brother bewildered.

"It's the name of the painting Sammy." Dean said quietly with a raise of his eyebrows as a squeal came from further down the bar as Charlie's head went up.

"The Righteous Man? I love him, he is such a great character." She said.

"What the hell you talking about?" Sam asked again running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"She's talking about the Supernatural books honey." When Sam still look confused Jess continued as she wrapped her arms around her fiancée. "The Roadhouse is the bar in the Supernatural books, the righteous man is one of the lead characters. I'm sure the other two pictures have names connected to the series as well."

"Wait, you named your bar after a bar in a chick-lit series?" Sam asked his brother incredulously making Dean huff.

"They're not chick-lit, they're fantasy books, bitch."

"Yeah whatever jerk. It's the girls who recognise the name not the men."

"Actually I have read the books, they're good." Came bobby's gruff voice from the other side of the bar causing both Sam and Deans eyebrows to rise and stare at the older man. Bobby looked up and caught them staring at him.

"What? I can read ya know." He said before going back to looking at his magazine with a muttered "idjits."

"So what are the other called." Charlie asked in excitement causing Benny to help her lift them. Dean didn't he just sat there and watched, he had a fairly good idea of the names of the other two. Or at least the names in the books.

The blue eyed painting was the first to be turned and Charlie shouted out to the room.

"This one is Heaven's Warrior." Which made Dean smile. He had never been able to come up with a suitable description of the angel in the books, except for the blue eyes and shadowy wings of course.

He didn't really want to know the last title but he stayed as Charlie read the name from the back of the woman's painting "The Flaming Angel." After she had finished everyone started to drift off to get into the own groups, the girls together with Ash and Chuck, Benny and Bobby leaning on the bar and Sam still staring at the paintings.

Ellen came over to him, looking down at the pictures before turning to him with a small smile and said "She was very beautiful wasn't she?"

"Who?" Dean replied, though he thought he had an idea of what Ellen was talking about.

"Your mother." This was greeted with silence as Dean carried on drinking. "Is the painting accurate?" she asked, wondering if Dean would reply. He turned to look at her. He didn't say anything just looked, as if he was calculating if he could truly trust her or not. Finally it seemed he saw what he needed to see in her face as he replied. "Yes."

"You must be very good at writing if an artist can take you words and turn them into these." She said with a pat on his arm as she moved to talk to her husband. Dean just sat there for a while thinking about what she had said, then with a shake of his head decided it was time for the paintings to find there new homes. He stood from his stool asking Bobby for a hammer and some nails while deciding which painting would look best where.

* * *

Castiel sat in his studio looking out of the large glass window he had instead of a wall on one side. Though he was trying to think of a new project all he could think about was Dean Winchesters reaction to his paintings. Not that he knew what that was and he wasn't likely to until tomorrow but still. It was almost like letting you children go play outside and hoping that they made a friend. He hoped that Dean understood them.

* * *

The bar was empty except for the lonely owner. Dean sat at the bar looking at his three new paintings drinking a beer. He had had them hung around the room, with the flaming angel on the back wall and was therefore the first thing you saw when you entered. The righteous man was down near the pool table and heavens warrior was across from the bar. Dean sat there starring at it. He may have had a bit too much to drink or maybe it was the look in the blue eyes but he found himself pulling out his phone and dialling Castiel's number.

"What?" came the snarky reply that made Dean smile.

"Hey Cas. It's Dean," this was greeted with silence so he continued "Dean Winchester? You just did three paintings for me?" this was starting to get embarrassing, I mean what reason would Castiel have to remember Dean (in case you're wondering the answer is actually lots but that's for later).

"Yes I'm well aware of who you are Dean, what I do not know is why you are calling me at 2 o'clock in the morning." Came the stoic reply form the other end of the phone. Dean winced he didn't realise it was quite so late.

"Sorry did I wake you?" he asked hoping that Cas was an eccentric artist who worked all night and that he hadn't sleeping before this inane conversation.

"No." Dean breathed out a sigh of relief at this answer before replying to the question Cas had previously asked.

"Okay, well I just wanted to say that I think the paintings are great."

"Good" came the reply from the artist. If Dean had been a little more sober or a little less confident he may have come up with some excuse and ended the call then and there. But he wasn't, what he was was extremely stubborn and therefore decided it would a great idea to see if he could get more words out of the man he was talking to.

"Got them hung up on the wall and everything."

"I'm glad." Oh two words this time. Progress.

"So you're a fan of the Supernatural books are you?" he asked fishing for something to talk about as well as maybe some compliments.

"Yes." Oops, fail Dean only one word.

"Okay stop with the one word replies, god it's like getting blood out of a stone-" suddenly Dean realised he was talking to an empty phone, Castiel had hung up.

"Cas? Cas? What the hell?" he asked into the empty bar staring at his phone with frown, drinking his beer.

And in his studio Castiel was furiously mixing paints to make the colour of blood. He had been staring at the blank canvas since sending the paintings to the bar and now after one short conversation with Dean Winchester he had inspiration to paint. Hmm, seemed he might have to start being a bit nicer to guy if this continued.


	6. Chapter 6

Cas sat in his studio again looking at a blank canvas. It was really starting to piss him off that he couldn't come up with any damn ideas for paintings. Sighing, knowing exactly what he had to do he reached for his phone.

* * *

Four days after his slightly drunken conversation with Cas Dean was restocking the bar for the night. Tonight was the first concert Chuck and his band were giving and he thought it would probably be a busy one. The bar had become popular, the good food and drink and the relaxed atmosphere brought the right kind of people to the door and he loved it. he loved his new home and people he was meeting. Just as he was putting the last bottles away his phone rang. He didn't check to see who was calling, after all the only person it was likely to be was Sam.

"Ye-llo" he said while standing.

"hello Dean." Came the response in voice he had not expected to hear, like ever.

"Cas." he said in surprise and when this was greeted with silence he continued. "So um what's up?" he asked walking so he was leaning against the far end of the bar away from anyone else.

"I need some inspiration." Camed the reply in an even tone.

"so you thought you'd call me?" Dean asked with laughter in his voice at the absurdity of it.

"yes." Cas replied, completely seriously.

"so what? I'm your muse now?" Dean asked jokingly to the other man. Castiel thought this over and realised that it was the best explanation he had and he really didn't want to have to explain anything else.

"Yes." He replied again completely seriously.

"what? Cas I was joking." Dean answered while watching Chuck and his friends come through the door with all there gear.

"I wasn't." Cas replied. He'd hoped that this could have been a short conversation but it looked like he was actually going to be sociable to the man on the other end of the phone. He heaved a put upon sigh and put his phone on speaker so he could pick up his brush, hoping inspiration would strike soon and he could hang up.

"okkkay." Dean said sounding slightly freaked out by the idea. "So why me?" he continued warily, he wasn't sure he really wanted to know, I mean wasn't it a little girly being someone's muse? (No dean it's really not). Add in the fact he had never actually met that someone and it was a bit weird (okay yes Dean was probably right about that one but hey its Castiel right?).

"I have no idea." came the stoic reply. The sincerity of the voice made Dean roll his eyes and to decide to just accept it.

"Great." he said sarcastically. "So what does being your muse entail then?" he asked, hoping that he really didn't have to do anything.

"I do not know." Cas replied frustrated that they were still talking about this, he needed inspiration not explanations.

"Then now do you know I'm your muse Cas?" Dean asked again smirking as he heard the frustration in the other man's voice, hey if he had to be a muse he wouldn't be a compliant one.

"When I talk to you I have ideas for my paintings." Came a soft voice from the other end of the line as if Cas really didn't want to admit this but couldn't see any other way of answering the question and still get what he wanted from Dean.

"Is that why you keep hanging up on me? To go paint?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow as he watched the band set up. He was starting to enjoy this conversation, it was fun annoying Cas.

"Yes." Replied the other man through gritted teeth.

"Nice to know it's not that you don't want to talk to me." Dean said standing straighter as Chuck made his way over to Dean.

"I need to talk to you." Came the grumpy reply, though Dean wasn't really listening any more as he noticed Chuck waiting to speak to him and unlike Cas he wasn't going to just hang up so he could go do some work.

"you what Cas?" he said vaguely.

"I can't seem to paint without your input. It is most annoying." Cas said with exasperation in his voice, as if it was the worst thing that could happen to him.

"yeah I'm sure it is. Look I'm gonna have to go the band has arrived and set up." Dean said turning away from Chuck as he made to say goodbye.

"Don't Dean." Came a pleading voice from the other end making Dean close his eyes, he could just imagine the other guy making puppy dog eyes at him (Yes I am aware that he didn't know what Cas looked like but hey poetic licence right?).

"What? your not they only one who's gotta work you know." Dean replied softly smiling as he leaned over the bar. This sentence was followed by a silence Dean didn't really want to break. He didn't know why but the wanted Cas to acknowledge this fact. Then Cas spoke.

"Very well" he said grumpily before changing his voice to the pleading tone. "If you must work please take your phone with you and put it on speaker. Maybe I can get some inspiration listening to you interact with others."

"you know that sounds creepy dude." Dean said with a raise of his eyebrow and a huff of laughter at the other guy.

"Dean..." Cas replied part begging part exasperation that he had come to this just to be able to paint.

"Fine I doing it." Dean replied with a sigh putting his phone on speaker as he muttered "man I must be crazy." Shaking his head and walked over to Chuck.

Cas sat on his stool with his eyes closed letting the conversation wash over him. He did not really understand what it was about Dean Winchester but he had something. Something that called to his artists soul and listening to his conversations he felt that maybe Dean could be his connection to the outside world. Castiel didn't really do going out, like ever. His life was painting and apart from the occasional outings with his brothers (the ones he liked at any rate, the others he ignored) it was all he did. Yet lately his ideas had become fewer. Perhaps with his connection to Dean he could get some more and still not have to go to all the hassle of going out and interacting with people. He really didn't the time or inclination for social niceties.

As he was sitting there thinking this he heard the music start up down the phone and Dean's voice as he shouted a 'hell yeah' up at the band. With that his eyes flew open as he grabbed his paints, letting the music wash over him.

Dean had forgotten that there was someone else on the other end of his phone and he still had it in his hand as he went about his job, going behind the bar to join Ellen serving.

"What you doing with your phone Dean?" Ellen asked curiously, she had watched him go off earlier when it had rung and seen the emotions playing over his face while he was on  **that**  call.

"Shit. Sorry, be right back." He said to Ellen taking his phone of speaker and raising it to his ear.

"Cas? Cas man you still there?" Dean said as he walked away from Ellen, unaware of her eyes watching him or that she had heard him say Cas before he was out of ear shot. Soo Ellen thought, who exactly is Cas? Meanwhile Dean was greeted by silence and he let out a sigh of frustration.

"I guess you've gone to paint so bye." He said almost sadly.

"Yes Dean I am painting, try not to interrupt. But please don't hang up," A thought suddenly came to Castiel as he looked up from his canvas and at his phone before continuing. "In fact put it back on speaker and leave it behind the bar." This reply came just as Dean had brought the phone away from his ear.

"What?" he said returning it to his head to check he had just heard that correctly.

"You heard." Cas replied as he went back to his painting, only paying half attention to the conversation with Dean now.

"You want me to leave you on speaker behind the bar?" Dean asked credulously with raised eyebrows.

"Yes." Cas' voice sounded as if he was just humouring Dean now.

"Why?" Dean asked still very puzzled.

"I like the music." Was all Cas said in reply.

"Yeah well you can get your ass down here like everyone else then can't you." Dean stated about to hang up from the crazy man he was talking to.

"No" Cas' voice held a tone of command as if he expected Dean to do what he said and not ask any questions (which lets be honest we all know ain't gonna happen).

"Why?" (see told you!)

"I'm busy. Dean please stop arguing and just do what I say, we both know you will in the end." Came Castiel's replied in a stern voice you would use on a wayward child.

"Well….What…" Dean spluttered, he really couldn't think of anything to say to that.

"Yes Dean." Cas said in a placating voice before continuing "Now phone on speaker on the bar please." Dean just looked down at his phone shaking his head, is this guy for real? Shrugging it put the phone on speaker and walked back to the bar with a smile for Ellen as he placed his phone out of the way on the back of the bar. Castiel smiled when he heard the music come back and a conversation happening between Dean and Ellen. This was going to be a great night for ideas he could feel it.


	7. Chapter 7

Once Dean stepped away and there was a lull in the customers coming to the bar Ellen leaned back next to Dean's phone.

"Hello Cas." she said quietly, not wanting to alert anyone to what she was doing. Her sentence was greeted with a silence but she was not going to be put off so easily.

"Oh, look its seems that Dean has left his phone on behind the bar. Maybe I should turn it off." She said loudly enough that she knew whoever was on the other end would hear. Her persistence was rewarded when she heard a gruff voice forcefully say "Don't." At this she smiled. Time to get the information she wanted now she had got a response.

"Okay, I won't." She paused, she could almost hear the sigh of thankfulness from the man on the other end. " **If**  you tell me who you are."

"Why?" came the gruff response.

"Because I want to know who Dean trusts enough to leave behind the bar, even if it is only on the phone." She answered looking around at the bar in front of her, making sure she wasn't being watched or ignoring any customers.

"Who are you?" Came the reply in a short tone of voice, as if she had irritated the man.

"I asked first Cas." She said in her best mother tone, the one that always got Jo and Dean to do as she wished.

"Seems you already know my name." came the grumpy reply making her smile even more.

"But I don't know who you are. After all a Rose by any other name would smell as sweet." Ellen replied. She was enjoying this jousting of words.

"Did you just quote Shakespeare at me?" Came an incredulous voice, as if the man couldn't quite believe it.

"Yes." Ellen replied simply, she couldn't work out if the man was surprised that she knew Shakespeare or the fact that she managed to use it in the conversation. "Now how about this. I'll start. I am Ellen Singer and I work for Dean at the roadhouse. Your turn."

"I am Castiel." came the reply, as if he still couldn't get over her previous comment and therefore forgot that he was supposed to be arguing with her.

"Ahh the Artist." Ellen replied. It made more sense now. After seeing those pictures she wasn't sure if she believed Dean when he said he didn't know the guy and yet now here she was speaking to him on the phone.

"Yes." Castiel said in a tone which implied the 'du'.

"So why did Dean leave you on the phone behind the bar?" She really was wondering about this one. And seeing as he had painted such amazing pictures for Dean she was very intrigued about there relationship to each other.

"Because I told him too." came the reply, as if Castiel was no longer paying her much attention.

"Told hu?!" she asked with a smirk at the image that brought to her head. Dean Winchester was whipped.

"Yes. Now if you don't mind I need to get back to work." Castiel replied not really listening to her but wanting her silence so he could hear the music playing in the background.

"Oh I don't mind at all." Ellen responded crossing her arms. This was greeted with silence. After a minute Ellen spoke again "So can't you talk and work?"

"I could but I don't want to." Came the reply causing a bark of laughter from Ellen.

"you'll do." She said with a fond smile on her face.

"For what exactly?" Castiel asked warily. He wasn't stupid he knew that this woman could and would do anything she damn well pleased.

"As a friend for Dean." Ellen answered softly as her eyes found the man talking with his brother and some of his brothers friends. Dean Winchester, she had come to the conclusion, needed friends of his own. He needed someone he could turn to for help for once and maybe he had found it in the eccentric artist.

"I am not Dean's friend, he is my inspiration." Came Castiel's confused reply. He didn't have friends, it made life easier if there was only himself to worry about.

"Is that so?" Ellen replied with amusement in her voice. Continuing as she noticed some customers approaching the bar. "Well long may he inspire you then Castiel. Good luck with your work." and with that she moved to serve the customers, knowing that Castiel was unlikely to reply to her last comment.

* * *

At the end of the night, after the clean down of the bar all the staff, Sam and Jess who had come to see Chucks band preform sat at the bar to relax and have a drink. Castiel decided that once they all finished work that he should as well and he was just about to hang up when he heard a voice speak to the people relaxing in the bar on the other end of the line.

"So seemed quite a few people in here tonight got the reference of the bars name and paintings, they thought it was a really cool idea." Charlie spoke to the people sitting around the bar.

"Yeah I heard that too. It seemed that most people were wondering if the artist knew who Carver Edmund was." Jo responded.

"Who is Carver Edmund?" Sam asked, felling once again lost in the conversation.

"The man who wrote the Supernatural books honey. Do try to keep up." replied Jess before turning back to Jo and Charlie to discuss there theories on the mysterious writer.

"What the hell kind of name is Carver Edmund?" Sam asked to no one in particular. Dean just smirked into his drink as he thought about how he came up with that. (He was eating in his favourite dinner trying to think up a pen name when he overheard the chef and waitress talking "Edmund this is not the sort of place that could do Carvery." she said. The chef just grumbled that people should expect more and that he thought it was a great idea. The conversation had struck with him, particularly as he agreed with the chef. And that was it. Why not use that name? As I have already said Dean is  **not**  good at naming things.)

Castiel was sitting in his studio smiling at the conversations taking place down the phone. He was very intrigued by the idea that he knew Carver Edmund and the girls theories.

The conversations continued to ebb and flow, from Jo's friendly ribbing of Dean about his dancing to Charlie and him geeking out about the new superhero film that had just been released. And Castiel sat alone in his studio listening to it all. Laughing silently as he listened to Jo's description of Dean's dancing, thinking that that might make a good painting someday.

Somehow the time flew past and he heard on the other end of the phone people getting up and heading home. He was just about to hang up when he heard Ellen yell "Dean don't forget your phone." and then he heard the door close behind her as he heard Dean scraping his chair on the floor and muttering shit. Next thing he knew Dean was there.

"Hey Cas, you still with me?"

"Hello Dean. Yes I am here." he replied taking his phone of speaker and bringing it up to his ear.

"sorry about that I completely forgot you where there man." Dean said as he picked up a beer and made his way to a booth at the back of the bar.

"It is fine Dean." Castiel replied evenly, still perched on his painting stool.

"So hows the painting going." Dean asked taking a swig of his beer and trying to make small talk with the socially inept man.

"I have finished for the evening." came Castiel's reply.

"okay cool, so... umm... what? you going to bed now or something?" Dean asked trying to think of something to say, though he guessed that if Cas hadn't hung up on him yet then he probably wanted to talk, or sit there in silence, whatever.

"No." Great back to the one word answers.

"okay. Soo you want to talk?"Dean tried. He was determined to have a conversation with this man even if it felt a bit like pulling teeth.

"Okay." Castiel replied. A bit surprised by the idea, he didn't really do 'talking', but maybe he could give it a go. After all he wanted to find out all he could about this man, then maybe he wouldn't need his help for painting if there was nothing else to discover. Thinking this he got up from his stool, grabbed a beer out of the fridge and made his way over to the sofa next to the wall of windows.

"So what should we talk about?" Came Deans voice down the line. Castiel thought for a moment as he settled himself comfortably.

"Tell me of the people you work with." He finally said.

"Okay, what do you want to know?" Dean replied with a smile on his face, leaning back in his seat. If there was one thing he was good at it was telling stories. Even if they are real.

"Everything." Castiel replied leaning back into his seat getting ready to be entertained.

And that was it. Dean and Castiel talked all night about the people in Dean's life, he made them seem so real, painting them with words so that the images came into Castiel's mind. They became so real to him that they slowly made there way into Castiel's life too. Not that he knew it at that time.

After a few hours when there was a lull in the conversation Dean looked up to see the sun just coming over the horizon.

"well I guess I should go to bed, what with the sun now coming up." he said somewhat reluctantly. He had enjoyed his night talking to Cas.

"Yes." Cas replied. He had been watching the sunrise lighten the sky for a while now. He paused in what he was saying as he watched the first tendrils of light appear over the horizon. "I love the sunrise, it always chases away the night bringing light to all."

"Umm yeah okay, its real pretty I guess." Dean replied, looking out the window of the bar as the light started to appear.

"yes Dean it is." Cas' replied with amusement in his voice at Dean's uncertainty.

"okay well if you need me to be an a-muse-ing muse again give me a shout." Dean said getting up from his comfortable seat and putting empty bottle in the bin behind the bar.

"That pun is beneath you Dean. It was terrible." Cas replied with dry humour and shake of his head at Deans appalling sense of humour.

"Na man it was awesome, just like me." Dean said with a smile as he leaned against the bar, not wanting to end the conversation just yet.

"Whatever you say Dean Winchester." came Cas' reply, like he was humouring Dean.

"Damn straight." This was followed by silence as both men tried to think of something to say to keep the conversation going but both coming up empty. With a small sigh Dean finally conceded defeat. "Okay well I'm gonna hit the hay now, night Cas."

"Goodnight Dean." Castiel replied, with a voice that wasn't completely there.

Dean hangs up his phone and turns off the lights in the bar heading to his bed with a smile on his face. While Castiel stands at his wall of glass and watches the sunrise, hoping that one day he would be able to capture its beauty.


	8. Chapter 8

5 days after his last conversation with Cas Dean is sitting at the bar going over the books for Ash to check tomorrow when his phone yet again rings. (You may have guessed but this is a bit of a reoccurring theme in this tale).

"Ye-llo" he said in his usual greeting.

"What does that actually mean?" Came the grumpy response making him smile.

"It means whatever you want it to Cas. So you phoning me because you wanna chat?" he asked as he turned on the stool he was sitting on to lean his back against the bar.

"No." came Castiel's reply. Why would he be phoning to talk? He needed to paint.

"Well what other reason could you possibly have?" Dean asked in innocent wonder as he let the smile on his face grow wider.

"Dean" Castiel replied in a warning tone. He was not in the mood for the bar owner's idea of humour, he had been staring at a blank canvas for 2 hours already and his nerves were getting frayed.

"Okay, well your timing is impeccable I must say." Dean responded dropping the humour to talk to his friend…wait was that the right word? (And yes Dean it is, for now.)

"Why?" Castiel asked intrigued in spite of himself. Though he told himself it was because when Dean was talking about other things was when he gave him his inspiration (don't worry he'll work out the friend thing…eventually).

"Cos I'm trying to do the books before my accountant gets here tomorrow." Dean said ruthfully looking back over his shoulder at the numbers he was trying to figure out.

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose of having an accountant?" Castiel asked confused by Dean's sentence.

"No way man. It's like doing the housework the day before your cleaner comes. It's got to be done." Dean replied smiling again at Cas' confusion.

"That is highly illogical Dean." Castiel was not convinced by Dean's argument.

"Never said it was logical. Just the way it is. So what we gonna talk about today cos I feel like I'm drowning here-" Suddenly Dean realises he is talking to himself. Cas has hung up the phone. "Yeah good talking to you to Cas, bye." And with a shake of his head he went back to trying to do the books. And in his studio Castiel was furiously mixing colours to make the perfect blue for swirling water.

* * *

Ellen was cleaning down a table as she hears Dean's phone ring. She turns so she can see him out of the corner of her eye and watches the smile light up his face and the teasing glint appear in his eye as he talks. She knows who's on the other end of the phone. She just wonders if Dean realises how much he enjoys talking to Castiel, and if it was true the other way round she added as she noticed him take his phone away from his ear and look at it with a shake of his head before putting it away and going back to the books. Not that he will get any off it done but it's the thought that counts she guessed.

* * *

The next time Cas called Dean was two days later and Dean was sitting at his desk in his office with his personal computer open in front of him trying to think of where his latest Supernatural book was going.

"Hey Cas." He said somewhat absentmindedly.

"Hello Dean." Came the stoic reply.

This was followed by silence as they both sat there trying to get inspiration. But it was not an awkward one but a comfortable silence, the kind you would share with a good friend.

"So what's up?" Dean asked finally breaking himself out of his thoughts, or lack thereof as the case maybe, he was suffering from a serious case of writers block. When this happened he would normally phone Sam and ask him about his life, he had done that earlier but it still didn't seem to help. Maybe as he was muse to the artist then Cas could help him break though this wall.

"The ceiling." Castiel deadpanned in reply. Dean's head shot up from the blank page he was staring at. Did Cas just make a joke? Hell maybe he was human after all. This thought caused a smile to appear on his face and an idea to start to develop in his mind.

"Nice. So what we discussing today?" He said giving his complete attention to the conversation now, hoping that it would help the idea to form into a plot.

"I do not know." Castiel responded frustrated as he always was when he phoned Dean. He really hoped he didn't continue to depend on this man for ideas.

"Okay, how about we sit here in silence then." Dean replied his free hand moving towards the keyboard as his idea continued to form, typing the odd word or sentence down so he had a rough outline for his book.

"No." came the sulky response.

"God you're such a baby Cas." Dean said shaking his head at the artist, not that he could see him.

"Dean I need to paint and you talking gives me ideas, so I need you to talk." Cas was getting angry at the man now, didn't he know how important this was?

"Fine Cas, you need to paint? Then do me a picture of the boy king." Dean snapped at his phone. He didn't have to take that shit from anyone and he really wanted to get this idea down before he forgot it.

"Are you commissioning another painting from me Dean?" Castiel asked incredulously, how could Dean afford another painting?

"Yeah I am. Now go do It." and with that Dean hung up so he could get writing.

Castiel stared at his phone. Dean had just hung up on him. He had never done that before, it was very confusing and he felt…hurt? Was that right? He shook his head to clear it of thoughts of Dean Winchester and went over to his bookcase and pulled out the first book in the Supernatural series which had the best description of the boy king in it and started to read.

And in his office Dean started writing about the angel dealing with being human and learning how to survive as one.


	9. Chapter 9

Castiel was sitting down on his painting stool after re-reading his supernatural books to get a good description of the boy king when the door to his studio was banged open and then slammed shut. Castiel closed his eyes against the interruption, there was only one person it would be and he really didn't want to have to deal with him right now, or ever if he could get away with it.

"Hey little bro. how's the world from your point of view today?" A voice shouted behind him. Did he really have to shout? He was in the same damn room. (Answer yes he did. He was that wonderful).

"It was fine until you arrived Gabriel. What do you want?" Castiel said with exasperation putting down his brush knowing he won't be getting any painting down while his brother was here.

"Can't I just come visit my favourite bro?" Gabriel replied with a smirk sitting himself on Castiel's couch and pulling a lolly from his pocket.

"No, and those things will rot your teeth." Castiel glared at him. He was busy, damn him.

"Okay so maybe I was a bit bored and thought you know what Gabe? You haven't gone out drinking with your brother for a while. So here I am to take you out and make you experience life." He said with a flourish.

"I do not need to experience 'life' 'Gabe' I have work to do." Castiel said with full on finger quotes and mimicking his brother voice.

"Really? How you going to get your 'inspiration' if you don't go out?" Gabriel replied mimicking the finger quotes. (Yes they had both reverted to little children, but isn't that the way with siblings?)

"I have 'inspiration' Gabriel." Castiel then decided to stop being soo childish as it only encouraged his brother, continued in a more normal tone. "I also have a commission."

"Oh yeah? Which family member is it this time?" Gabriel asked rolling his eyes. Cas never had commissions from anyone else, he was to rude and never went out enough to meet people who might buy his stuff.

"No it's for Dean actually." Castiel replied smugly. He knew what his brother was thinking.

"Dean? And who pray tell is Dean?" Gabriel asked with wide eyes doing his best impression of an excited teenage girl.

"He is my inspiration." Castiel replied with a straight face, causing Gabriel to choke on his lolly.

"Bloody hell Cassie. You finally got yourself a boyfriend? Well hell, seems like you don't need my help after all." He finally managed to get out once he had finished coughing.

This sentence caused Castiel to frown and tilt his head in confusion at his brother. What made Gabriel think he was romantically involved with Dean. "Why do you say that?"

"Well you said he was your inspiration so I thought…" Gabriel closed his eyes begging silently for anyone out there to give him strength before he continued. "Please tell me Cassie that you are having a relationship with this man." Gabriel groaned as his brother was still looking at him confused.

"Yes he is my inspiration." Castiel replied as if that explained everything.

One of these days, Gabriel thought, he was going to have to teach Cas to communicate with the rest of the world.

"Okay, how exactly does he inspire you?" Gabriel asked somewhat fearfully. He could imagine his brother stalking some poor innocent guy just to get his 'inspiration'.

"I phone him, he talks and gives me ideas." This caused Gabriel's eyebrow to rise. He talks to this guy on the phone? Cas hates the phone (or any form of contact with fellow humans but Gabriel decided to conveniently forget this fact).

"Why don't you go and met him to get your ideas?" He asked he was honestly intrigued now. His brother may be as weird as hell but he was defiantly good for entertainment.

"Because I have never met him." Castiel replied as if it was obvious, which let's be honest to him it was. Just not everyone saw the world as Castiel did he found it very irritating to have to explain himself. People really should just know.

"Wait let's see if I got this straight" Castiel rolled his eyes at this, see no one ever understands. "You talk to a guy you have never met on the phone and he gives you ideas for your paintings." Gabriel said slowly as if speaking to a child. Surely he had missed something here.

"Yes." Castiel nodded glad that Gabriel had finally understood.

"And does he buy all these pictures you do?" Gabriel asked cautiously, just what had his little bro got himself involved in now?

"No, he is my muse. Not my benefactor." Castiel replied thinking that Gabriel was obviously stupid not to understand that.

"Muse? You call him your muse?" Gabriel couldn't help the laughter in his voice at that.

"No it is was he has called himself. He likes to use it to annoy me I believe when I phone him." Castiel said contemplating all the times Dean had raised the whole muse inspiration thing. He didn't understand why Dean was always determined to wind him up when they talked.

"Why does he want to annoy you?" Gabriel asked intrigued yet again (you'd think he would have learnt by now to not get intrigued by his brother. No matter what).

"I don't know. But once he has got it out of his system we talk and he gives me an idea for a painting and then I can finally hang up."

"Wait, you just call him get ideas and then hang up? And you don't know why he likes to annoy you?" Gabriel said extremely sarcastically.

"What? It is a perfectly reasonable relationship." Castiel responded defensively. He really didn't want his brother input on this.

"So what kind of things do you and Dean talk about?" Gabriel asked. He wanted to know what the true relationship between his brother and this stranger was and though Cas wouldn't have a clue, if he could describe it to Gabriel he would know.

"Anything, everything. Sometimes our talks are short and sometimes I get him to leave his phone behind his bar so I can listen in while he works." Castiel responded with a slightly wistful voice.

"Okay that Cassie, is creepy." Gabriel replied pointing his lolly at his little brother.

"He said the same. I don't understand why. I need to understand this man so I can stop needing him to paint." Castiel said more to himself than his brother frowning. He had forgotten Gabriel was even there.

"Okay, well Cassie I'm sorry to say that your relationship with Dean isn't that of painter and muse. He's your friend." Gabriel explained as if talking to child. Though talking to Castiel was often like that so he was kinda used to it by now.

"No I don't have any friends." Castiel replied vehemently, he didn't want anyone else in his nice little life thank you very much. It was bad enough that he had to see Gabriel.

"Well it seems like you do now." Gabriel leaned back on the sofa smirking at Cas.

"No I won't accept it. He is just useful for my paintings nothing else." Castiel replied shaking his head and crossing his arms just like a petulant child.

"Uh-hu. Tell me, you ever just talked to guy without painting?" Gabriel inquired oh so innocently.

"No...Not really." Castiel mumbled not looking his brother in the eye.

"Not really?" Gabriel raised both eyebrows and stared Castiel down until he broke.

"Well fine, there was one night when he was telling me about his friends and family, but that was it."

"Yeah thought so." Gabriel said getting up from his sit and launching himself across the room and grabbing Castiel's paint brushes before he could think to react and running towards the door yelling over his shoulder. "You can have these back when you have talked to Dean for half an hour about something other than painting. I'll bring them back when you're done." And with that he closed the door.

Castiel sat there fuming. He was not going to call Dean, Gabriel wouldn't know if he didn't. Suddenly the door opened again and Gabriel stuck his head round.

"Oh and Cassie. I'll know it you don't." and with that he was gone leaving Castiel to drop his head in his hands at the actions of his damn brother.


End file.
